Drowning
by Dajypop
Summary: Even since the world went back to before all the carnage happened, the thought of Garsiv dying is still overwhelmingly present in Dastan's dreams. GarsivDastan, mentions of DastanTamina, Fluff


**AN: Alright...this is the start of my vent stories, I think. I have a very decent idea for this, so I hope you all like it.**

Pairing: GarsivDastan

Yaoi, Angst, Fluff, After movie

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**Drowning**

A desert rain was often one of the scariest thing any man, woman, child, or animal had to deal with. The loose sand and silt blanketing the land didn't quite understand how to suddenly hold so much water, and would crumble and mold together to create mud and landslides. Most places on level ground would flood with frightening speed and accuracy, wiping out whatever was before it.

Perhaps this is why a young Prince had trotted his horse as far away from home, and his wife, as possible. It was hard to do this all again. Every night, he had these horrid nightmares of the deaths of those he loved. The most vivid of those, however, was his dear middle brother, Garsiv. Every time he watched the Hassansins kill him...every time he held his brother close in his arms as he sputtered about saving the kingdom...Dastan would wake up in a sweat, tears pouring down his cheeks, a worried woman sitting up beside him.

How could he tell her that the death he regretted the most was that of his brother? His first and only true lover that he really felt safe and okay with. How could he tell her that he preferred being on bottom than doing all sorts of things to her? He didn't know, so he didn't bother trying. However, the more he thought on the subject, the more worried and nervous he became. He worried his brother's death again; he vaguely wondered if he could pick the dagger away from Tamina in hopes of setting his brother back to life if the case would have it.

The rain came down, pouring onto the sun parched earth, filling cracks and creating small pools of water that some kinda of lizard played in as he watched from his hideout among and old, abandoned temple. He'd been coming here when he was troubled for years, now. The bridges were crumbled but still navigable, and the water from the sky soaked into the rock. He would always flee here when he wasn't sure of what to do, what was going on, or something of that likeness. He hid himself away with his horse here, bringing enough food, water, and firewood to keep him there for days, if he rationed right.

His thoughts began to wander to the real reason why he was in this place in the first place. He only came here when troubled, and boy was he troubled. He sighed a little, shaking his head as he let his mind go free.

The days he had endured alone, it seemed, always flashed inside his brain. He feared being close to people for the fact that he was worried they would die on him and he couldn't help them. He really didn't want to lose anyone ever again. He realized he'd never fight again if it meant peace for his country and those he loved. A sigh passed his lips as he skipped a stone through his meager fire and out into the rain, where it sunk down. He didn't even notice another presence or hear anything other than his own breathing until he felt arms slowly curling around his neck.

He tensed and his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but calming fingers brushed against his hands, stilling the motion.

"Isn't there something familiar about me, brother?" A very, _very_ familiar voice drawled in a soft purr in his ear, making him turn his face abruptly to the side and receive a soft kiss. "What is so horrible about being home that you come out here in the middle of a storm?" Garsiv never was one to beat around the bush with things.

Dastan opened his mouth to speak, but all words died on his lips and he eventually just closed them again and shook his head, looking down at his hands. The elder male waited patiently for another ten seconds before beginning to pepper his brother's neck and ear with kisses.

"It isn't hard to speak, brother. You do it so easily, most of the time. What is so different about now?"

"I...am worried." He finally managed, gulping a little. "Those dreams-"

"Again with your dreams...I'm stronger than that, brother, I would never die so easily and you know it." He smiled triumphantly, his brother just sighing and nodding vaguely.

"Everyone can die at any moment...and what if we all truly die alone?" He rubbed his temples, trying to hold back his tears. He remembered it so vividly that he didn't know how to tell his brother about it. The elder realized his words wouldn't help much unless he calmed his younger brother down, so he pulled him into his lap and kissed his lips, long, slow and gentle. Once Dastan finally abandoned most of his depression and began to kiss back, Garsiv pulled back and smiled at him.

"I will not die without you there to hold me." He told him, "To kiss me one last time before I join everyone else who died. But, until then, you will always have me, whenever you need me to be here for you. I will listen to anything you have to say, and I will do anything I can to prove that I love you." Those words seemed so odd, coming from such a fiery man's mouth, but they made the youngest brother smile and he pressed a kiss to the other's lips, nuzzling their noses together.

"Thank you, Garsiv..."

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AN: Just a bit of angsty fluff...I kind of like it, to be honest. :3


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